


Remember Me

by AceOfSpace



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Mentions of alcohol, This was meant to be a tiny little ficlet but here we are, Wyatt loves Jessica so much okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 03:25:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8355154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceOfSpace/pseuds/AceOfSpace
Summary: "Hi, it's Jessica! Leave a message and I'll get right back to you."
He sighed."Thank God you're still real."





	

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this shortly before episode three aired, but it ended up drawing inspiration from there as well. Sad Wyatt is fun to think about, in a gut-wrenching and painful sort of way.  
> Enjoy!

_“Hi, it’s Jessica! Leave a message and I’ll get right back to you.”_

A familiar beep sounded and left the room in silence. At one in the morning, the entire space was devoid of sound, stripped of light by choice, with no hint of any real presence but his own.

He sighed.

“Thank God you’re still real.”

His voice was airy and rich with exasperation, like he’d been to hell and back. It was like, finally, a crushing weight had been lifted from his chest. Wyatt relaxed his arm by his head, loosely clutching his cell phone while staring at the ceiling of the bedroom they once shared. It was an unbelievable relief to hear her voice. As much as he wished that Jessica was curled up next to him, murmuring in her sleep and stealing his part of the blankets, this was better than nothing.

What had once been a coping mechanism following her death had become a kind of solace. He supposed he had Connor Mason to thank for that, in a strange and frustrating sort of way. It was bad enough having to go day to day remembering that the most important, most incredible person in his life was gone, and only left to linger in his memory. With time travel and historical alteration thrown into the mix, Wyatt now found himself faced with more dire potential consequences.

Consequences that Lucy had to deal with first hand.

Although Jessica had been gone for almost five years, there were times when he felt like he’d buried her yesterday. She was his best friend, his confidant, his partner in crime, his soulmate, and the one person who made him understand true happiness. Before she died, Jessica occupied his thoughts from the moment he woke in the morning, until he fell asleep with her held tightly in his arms. Despite this, he had never really considered the idea of living without her - of losing her - until it was too late. The guilt ate away at him like acid slowly burning his skin. Sometimes, he would feel normal, almost content, for a moment, but the pain of her loss would strike again when he least expected it. Wyatt couldn’t ignore the fact that had he acted differently before, she still may have been there beside him.

Now and again, he found himself in situations when he yearned for her desperately, in moments both joyous and unpleasant. Of course, no matter how much he wished her alive and with him, she would never truly be there. He found a peaceful illusion in her voice, and that was why he continued to pay her phone bill for so long. Her old cell was kept far from the bedroom, almost perpetually charging, so that he couldn’t hear it ring. Deep down, he knew that she would never be around to retrieve it, but occasionally, it was nice to pretend that she was out in the world, going about her life that she should have lived.

Wyatt called her voicemail when he was reminded of her by something, and when he met someone who she would have liked. He called her when he felt the need to confess something, or simply to think out loud and vent his frustration. He called her when he missed her so much that it became unbearable, when not even a bottle of the strongest drink he could find was enough to sooth his aching heart. As time went on, the messages he left her became further apart, for he felt that he was slowly accepting the circumstance, and moving on from her passing.

That was, until Mason Industries entered his life.

After hearing of Lucy’s sister, he called every day without fail.

It was the first thing he did each time he re-entered the present. Now that Lucy had caught him online, staring dejectedly at the article reporting her death, he felt uncomfortable searching for his wife in public. He didn't want to drag anybody else down in sadness with him. For a woman who was so family-orientated and loved history more than anything, Lucy was already dealing with enough. 

Usually, it would be right after leaving the time machine, using a cordless phone he’d snatched from atop a desk in the warehouse, and stolen away with him to a restroom cubicle. If he didn’t hear Jessica’s voice on the other end of the line and she’d somehow been erased from history, Wyatt knew that he’d storm right back into that ridiculous machine and make things right, with his companions or otherwise. As for the warnings of death or disfigurement, he didn’t care. He was a soldier. Threats like that were so commonplace to the point where they started to feel like nothing. Besides, if it meant that Jessica would be alive, happy and safe, he figured that he’d die for her anyway. He would do it without question a thousand times.

Every call he received that summoned him for a mission, every time he sat down inside the time-travelling Lifeboat, had him questioning just what would happen next. He wondered as to how much of a mark they’d make on history this time, and what would change for better or for worse. As much as Lucy wanted for their actions to be stealthy and for there to be no mess, it was almost completely impossible. Even if they left everything unchanged, there was no way that Garcia Flynn could be forgotten. He was the biggest mess travelling through all of time and space, and he needed to be taken care of as soon as possible.

Wouldn’t it be nice if they could simply banish _him_ from history? 

The Lifeboat came to a standstill and after another action-packed adventure to a time long gone, they were in the present once more. Things in the warehouse looked the same, and there was still a sense of familiarity in the air. Hopefully, nothing catastrophic had taken place this time. Nonetheless, Wyatt felt nervous. Knowing what happened to Lucy, he felt that it was justified. There was every chance that people they had come to know now only existed in their memories. For Wyatt, that idea alone was devastating.

Lucy exited the machine carefully, the period footwear she had on making it difficult to descend to the floor with grace. Still, she seemed to manage. Rufus stepped out and wiped the sweat off of his brow, possibly taking in the fact that the team had faced another close call. He was summoned by Connor Mason himself to speak in private, while Lucy had already been faced with questions about Flynn and the job at hand. 

Wyatt took the opportunity to sneak away.

It had become almost a routine of sorts, in which he pushed by a couple of technicians, whose names he didn’t bother to learn, to steal an unattended phone on one of the work desks. It wasn’t anyone’s personal cell - they were typically guarded with passwords and Wyatt wasn’t stupid - but a basic cordless phone used to communicate within the building and to contact business associates. In one swift movement, he took the phone from its holster and dropped it into his era-appropriate suit jacket, then made a beeline for the door.

There were too many people in the restroom for his liking, so he opted for a janitor’s closet nearby. It was cramped and dark and had a questionable smell, but it gave him the privacy he needed. If Jessica’s voicemail didn’t greet him when he called, the actions that followed would not be pretty. For there to be no bystanders was likely for the best.

He didn’t need speed dial to get her number. It was something that had been etched into his memory, much like when they first met, and his own cell phone was flat. Jessica wrote her number on a napkin and then stuffed it into his shirt pocket. That napkin was still somewhere in the drawers by his bedside. As he dialled, the only things he could hear were the monotonous beeps coming from the phone’s keypad and the steadily quickening thump of his heart against his ribs. He liked to think that he wasn’t afraid of anything, but to lose every physical reminder he had of Jessica was his worst nightmare. He wanted to keep the napkin by his bed, and he wanted to keep their wedding photos, or more rather, all of their photos together. He wanted to know that he could visit her grave when he was home, and he could bring her flowers and talk about everything on his mind; about how he spent every day missing her and how he didn’t tell her he loved her quite enough times.

The phone rang and he felt a tight sensation in his chest.

_“Hi, it’s Jessica! Leave a message and I’ll get right-”_

There was a pause and Wyatt’s eyes widened. Something was strange.

_“Hello?”_

He did everything in his power not to drop the phone. He couldn’t think of what he, Lucy and Rufus had done, what kind of event in the past could make this a reality, but he knew that voice. Wyatt could pick _that voice_ from a sea of thousands. It was like music to his ears, his absolute favourite sound.

His back fell against the wall of the closet, and he could swear a broom or two fell over, but he didn’t care. The beginnings of tears were stinging at the corners of his eyes. Since his first venture back in time, he had spent countless nights dreaming of this, but at the same time, he figured it wasn’t going to happen. 

Lucy tended to say that everyone had their day to die, and that was how the world worked. Wyatt had yearned to prove her wrong, and now he could.

“Jessica?”

He tried to hide the fact that his voice was shaking, but to no avail. His entire body was quivering in a mixture of shock and unbelievable happiness. How he couldn’t want to hear her say his name again, and to tell him that she loved him. There were so many things he wanted to tell her all at once, words that had danced on his tongue ever since she passed away. He was going to protect her from everything, and be the best damn husband there ever was until they died old and grey, together. He was going to tell her how beautiful she was, how happy she made him, and how he was the luckiest guy alive to have her with him. He took a moment to try and remember the number for her favourite restaurant. Better yet, they could revisit where they first met. They could renew their wedding vows. The possibilities were endless. Still, Wyatt knew he had to take things one step at a time.

“Yes, who’s this?” she asked.

A nervous laugh escaped his lips. She used to make all sorts of jokes. It was probably the strange phone number that took her off guard.

“It’s me. It’s Wyatt.” He paused to take a breath and come to terms with the present moment, “I just called to see how your day was.”

He was met with silence, and it had him wondering if something had happened. Was she alright? Was she sick and bedridden like Lucy’s mother had been? He hoped that wasn’t posing an insensitive question. After being given a second chance at his marriage, Wyatt wanted nothing else than to start in the best possible way. With each second that passed, he grew worried.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Jessica answered, the warmth he came to know and love slowly vanishing from her voice and being replaced with hesitation, “I don’t know a Wyatt.”

His heart sank. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This was impossible. It was _unacceptable._ He had half a mind to toss the phone to the floor and crush it into a thousand tiny pieces. 

“Yes you do,” he spoke louder, figuring that Jessica must have injured her head, “You don’t remember? You have to remember.”

“No,” insisted Jessica, “Are you sure you have the right number?”

“Yes, I’m sure!” He was on the verge of panic.

At that moment, Wyatt was more relieved than ever to be alone. No one could see him cry, and only he had to know of the two wet stripes that were staining his cheeks. He sure as hell had the right number. Jessica had an iPhone six, and the cover was turquoise with pink roses on it. She bought it on the day after her birthday, while they were out getting an anniversary present for her parents. Her lock screen was a picture of him and her at the beach on their honeymoon, smiling and holding each other as the sun set on the horizon. He knew everything there was to know about Jessica, and he would remember her phone number until the day he died, even without consulting the old napkin by his bed. Of course, he quickly realised that the napkin didn’t exist anymore, nor did their honeymoon pictures. 

They hadn’t met.

He heard some commotion in the background, and a deep voice murmuring to Jessica, which made Wyatt’s blood boil as she replied _‘No, honey; just a wrong number.’_ Another voice, or perhaps two, began spontaneously chanting, and it took him a moment to figure out as to what. They were watching a sports game, and cheering for the _Bengals?_ What was she doing in Ohio? They didn’t live in Ohio!

Jessica sighed. “Look, Wyatt, I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she still sounded kind, even though she was evidently confused, “I hope you find who you’re looking for.” 

The call ended.

He didn’t know how to feel. To know that she was alive made his heart swell with joy and gave him the urge to smile from ear to ear. Still, knowing that she wasn’t the Jessica he knew, and that every experience they shared no longer existed made him want to wretch until his stomach was dry. He thought it to be the epitome of bittersweet; the world was a much better place with Jessica in it, while _his_ world was crashing and burning all around him. He wondered what would be waiting for him when he got home. Anything? With the last remaining pleasure in his life having been ripped from existence, his expectations were low, to say the least.

He knew he had to talk to Lucy. She’d understand his pain, or at least he hoped that she would. Then again, in her case, her sister was gone completely. Wyatt knew he had the luxury of knowing that Jessica was alright, even though her new life was less than what it was, given her stupid new boyfriend, her undoubtedly terrible place in Ohio, and her lame-ass football-obsessed friends. Lucy had nothing but her memories, and they were bound to fade in time. Perhaps it wasn’t the best idea after all. 

He thought of the high-and-mighty way that she talked about death and fate. Clearly, she didn’t think it was ‘fate’ for her sister to be taken from her, just as Jessica wasn’t ‘destined’ to die so soon. There had to be a way to fix this, and knowing that Lucy was getting her situation investigated gave him hope. Of course, there was always the option of trekking to Ohio and winning Jessica over the hard way, which he didn’t doubt he could do. She easily went weak at the knees when he charmed her. But that would take too long, and the missions back in time would mess with his plans.

That was when he realised that as nauseated as that damned machine made him feel, he needed to get back in there. He needed another call to go back, and fast. To live in a present day like this was going to kill him, perhaps posing more of an imminent threat to his sanity than his days on the front lines of war. There was no accepting this reality.

Then again, he refused to accept his circumstances before. What if things got worse again?

With his mind’s internal conflict giving him a headache, Wyatt stormed into the warehouse ready to push through everyone surrounding the Lifeboat, to strap himself into one of the uncomfortable chairs and not yield until he was sent back to make things right. Yet, in the midst of his rampage through the bustling crowds of agents and scientists, he saw her. Albeit only a little, his fury gave way. He focused more on pretending things were fine, on trying to look ‘all together’.

“Hey,” Wyatt greeted her, trying to sound casual. “How’re you doing?”

“Better than you,” Lucy teased in response, a smirk tugging at her lips before it faded just as quickly. “You look terrible.” Her eyes flickered sideways as she seemingly checked for eavesdroppers, and the volume of her voice dropped. “You didn’t try another telegram thing, did you?” She almost looked disappointed.

“No,” he answered perhaps a little too quickly, despite telling the truth.

She didn’t question him further. Instead, she peered at him wordlessly. It had Wyatt wondering if she could see the light catch the striped sheen on his cheeks. He knew that she was incredibly observant, even at the worst of times, and she had a knack for remembering random facts and trivia. She was likely able to put two and two together before he uttered a single hint.

“Something else happened,” she was confident, yet empathetic. Her features softened with concern. She offered to guide him to somewhere more secluded. They had to gather their modern day belongings, anyhow. 

Despite the relative privacy they had after leaving the warehouse, Wyatt was still hesitant. 

“It _is_ Jessica, isn’t it?” Lucy wasn’t wasting any time. “It has to be.”

His eyes narrowed and he looked away. When it came to his innermost feelings, he never thought of himself as much of a talker. However, he didn’t expect the historian to stop prying. As much as she was observant, she was inquisitive. More importantly, she was correct. Of course, it was to do with Jessica. Nobody could bring out such emotion from him as she did. Jessica tended to be the reason why he felt anything, and she’d made him feel things he never thought to be possible. 

Lucy had come to know that about him, in time.

“Wyatt,” she urged, her tone of voice almost a plea for his attention, “I know we haven’t known each other long, but we’ve been through enough. You can tell me.” Lucy paused, her lips pursing as she seemingly struggled to put the ideal words together. “I can try to understand. I’ve lost my sister, and I know that’s different to losing a wife, but-”

“Jessica’s not my wife anymore.” 

Lucy’s jaw visibly dropped. “Oh.”

He focused only on his shoes. The words had come out leaving the most bitter feel on his tongue. He never wanted to say them again, but in this timeline, it was the truth. In this timeline, the woman he loved more than anybody or anything else in the world didn’t know that he existed. The best experiences of his life never happened, and instead, they were trapped within the confines of his memory. This must have been how Lucy felt ever since the Hindenburg, he thought. He realised at that moment that he didn’t want to go home. His life had changed enough already.

“Don’t tell me I’m not the only one with a surprise fiance,” she was attempting to rouse a smile.

“ _Don’t._ ” He hadn’t thought about that.

Her voice became hushed. “Sorry.”

Wyatt didn’t want to ponder what waited for him at home, and how much things had changed. He didn’t want to know if he’d spent the last five or ten years in miserable solitude, with nothing but his work and his liquor. He didn’t want to consider the idea of someone else, for in his mind, there was no one else who mattered. All that sat at the forefront of his mind was that Jessica, _his_ Jessica, was alive, and that he had the opportunity to set things right.

“Don’t be,” he all but sighed.

For a minute or so, there was silence. However, the tension between them became so palpable that it needed breaking.

“She’s alive,” Wyatt murmured, and he noticed the look of surprise on Lucy’s face. Clearly, she hadn’t expected him to sound so conflicted as he spoke, nor to look so emotionally exhausted.

“That’s…that’s wonderful.” She stopped shuffling through her purse and was incredibly still. It was easy to tell that her mind was buzzing at a million miles per hour, the gears in mind spinning rapidly as she digested his words. It was wonderful. It was bittersweet; it was a second chance.

“Mm,” Wyatt didn’t want to talk much about it. Still, he could feel Lucy’s wide eyes on him, and every bit of her presence hunting for information with a single look. He’d given her so few words, but he felt it to be too much. It was like Lucy had pulled at a loose thread and unravelled a tightly knit sweater.

“...But?”

Was she ever going to stop?

“But what?” Hints of annoyance started to show in his voice.

“I thought this was everything you wanted.”

It was. For him to wake up in the morning and know that Jessica was alive and well was something he’d dreamt of for years, but not like this. Never like this. He wasn’t sure how it appeared on his face, but Wyatt found himself teetering on the edge of both ecstatic and livid. He hated thinking about how he’d been robbed of every physical reminder he had of his wife, how every day he’d spent with her never really happened. He loathed thinking about how she was with someone else, a man who could be making her happier than he ever did. Someone who’d never be as awful to her as he’d been. However, this time, he told himself, he would do better. He would be better.

“Anyway,” he tried to steer the subject, then licked his lips, “I’ve got some stuff I need to do.” He’d already retrieved his belongings and was ready to leave. “I shouldn’t be that long, but until I get back, you’re gonna need another soldier, just so you know.” His efforts to make things sound casual were futile, for the stress was evident in his voice. Already, he was planning the hours and days ahead, like where he would stay, and what he would do. After stuffing his wallet into his jeans, he turned on his heel to exit the room, but Lucy wasn’t going to have it.

“Wyatt, what are you talking about?!” she argued, sounding more like an unimpressed kindergarten teacher than a historian. “Where are you going?”

He turned to face her once more, and reluctantly gave her more information. Perhaps she would get off of his back if he did, he thought. 

“She’s alive, but she’s not _here._ ” He wasn’t going to tell her where, in fear that she might follow. 

Lucy’s brow furrowed, and she looked visibly disappointed again. He wished that she’d stop doing that.

“Where are you going?” she asked again, but more sternly.

He huffed and flashed a half-smirk in her direction. “Where do you think?”

There was no way that he was going home, partially because he didn't want to see what was there, but also because he thought it to be a waste of time. He was already thinking of how much money he had on his credit card, what he had on his person at the moment, and what he needed to get as soon as possible. He wondered if Jessica’s interests had changed, or if she was still doing the same thing for work. He questioned whether it would be easy to find her, or if it would be unbelievably difficult. Would he able to track her down in the midst of millions of other people? As uncertain as he was of that, it was surely worth a try. 

He was by the door when Lucy confronted him for the last time. His mind has been made up, and he was going to leave. For so long, he had wished for nothing more than to hold his wife in his arms, and treat her like the only woman alive. To know that this was a possibility again ignited a whole new kind of fire in Wyatt. He was going to make the most of this opportunity, or regret it forever. 

“You're not serious,” she called to him, shocked. “You're going to take off and try to win her over?!”

He felt his jaw clench in anger. He thought that Lucy of all people would understand, but he was gravely mistaken.

“Isn't it obvious?” It was a rhetorical question, for the answer seemed clear to him. Of course, he knew that he was going to be faced with more queries of ‘why’ and ‘what if’, but he had questions of his own. What if he came back from his next escapade time and Jessica had died again? What if she never existed in the first place? As much as he wanted things to be exactly as he pictured in his dreams, this was the new reality, and it was likely the best chance he’d ever get. 

“But what about the bigger picture?” she protested, “What about our mission, and capturing Flynn, and protecting history? Are you really going to go chasing some woman and just neglect your responsibility?”

That did not sit well with him at all. In fact, even hearing the words pour from Lucy’s lips made him want to storm out of the building and never look back. She had a point with her argument, but in his opinion, it held no weight. Her sister had been wiped from existence, and he knew that she was investigating the cause of it. Surely, if she had the opportunity to restore Amy’s life, she would take it. Wyatt saw his situation as no different. Regardless of whether fate was real or not, which he doubted, he was going after what he wanted. He feared to lose his mind if he didn’t give it his all. 

He felt his hands curl into fists and his nostrils flare. He didn't want to yell, but he was offended beyond belief. They were supposed to be ‘gelling as a team’. They were supposed to be _friends._ She had cut him deep, perhaps inadvertently, but it didn't make her remark any easier to handle.

“Jessica is _not_ ‘some woman’,” he all but growled through gritted teeth. “Now if you'll excuse me, I have places to go, and not much time.” 

He left the room before he gave Lucy the chance to reply. It wasn't the best option, but he didn't want to fight. After another day with the time team and the Lifeboat, he was done with conflict for a while. He wanted peace. He wanted Jessica.

“Siri,” he spoke to his cell phone after retrieving it from his pocket, “I want a plane ticket to Cincinnati.” 

_“Here’s what I’ve found.”_

Wyatt hailed a taxi to take him to the nearest airport. From there, he would get onto the earliest flight to Ohio, and begin his search for Jessica as soon as he arrived. He knew that it wouldn't be simple, given that he had to sift through millions of people to find his one true love, but that didn't deter him. Ever since the Lifeboat entered his life, Wyatt knew that the possibility of making things right was there, and as much as the situation wasn't ideal, at least it was there. 

He would find Jessica no matter what it took, and he would make the most of whatever time he could spend with her, whether she married him or otherwise. 

After all, his next call to the past could be at any time, and he knew that what the Lifeboat could give, it could take away just as quickly. 

For now, she was still real.


End file.
